The lawn service truck slowed at the end of the block. The routine started again. The endless battle of the lawns. A friendly unspoken competition in our neighborhood, best lawn, best grass, no weeds. Weeds are the enemy. Grass, luxurious, deep green, thickly bladed. The mark of the victor.
"Got a couple of dandelions there." Gene pointed out. I know Gene, even without his usual name on his shirt. Gene drives the lawn service truck. I see him at Little League games, Kiwanis, sometimes at church.
"Yeah." I said, "I see 'um."
Dandelions; scourge of the lawn. Always sticking up there happy yellow faces. Why yellow?
"Gonna take care of those?" asked Gene.
"Sure, gonna take care of them." I said. I don't use the lawn service.
I went to the library and got books on common weeds, weeds that bloom, weeds that creep, weeds that look like plants people like. Wild geranium, bull nettle, ox-eye daisies, dandelions. I Googled plantain, spurge, Russian thistles and Virginia creeper.
And those dandelions? They spread over my whole yard, and soon plantain knee knockers were everywhere and some ox-eyed daisies had made a stand on the sunny side of the drive. Every week I saw Gene frowning from across the street.
Last Monday, as I was cutting a path to the mailbox, Gene suddenly appeared.
"Thought you were gonna take care of those dandelions?" he declared.
" I did, Gene," I replied, "they are doing just fine!"
(This was an exercise I did for the Garden Inspired Writing Retreat with Missouri Extension specialist David Burton. Thanks for the title David!)
